


To The Bone (I Love It)

by Bentbonemarrow



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Abuse of Regenerative Abilities, Blood, Bloodplay, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Exhibitionism, Knifeplay, M/M, Medical Experiments, Non-Permanent Amputation (it grows back), Oral Sex, Painplay, Really Weird Boss - Employee Relationships, Voyeurism (kind of), extreme masochism, graphic gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:03:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bentbonemarrow/pseuds/Bentbonemarrow
Summary: Saburouta has certain proclivities - he's long since accepted that. It's not a big deal; he doesn't like parading them around.But then Lucifer notices. And he- oh, he starts askingquestions!
Relationships: Toudou Saburouta/Lucifer
Comments: 13
Kudos: 9





	To The Bone (I Love It)

**Author's Note:**

> READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.  
> MIND THE TAGS! IF YOU THINK THAT ANY OF THE SUBJECTS MENTIONED MIGHT UNSETTLE OR UPSET YOU, PLEASE RECONSIDER IF YOU SHOULD READ THIS WORK AT ALL. ALSO THIS IS FOR A **MATURE** AUDIENCE, **DO NOT** READ IF YOU ARE NOT AN ADULT. 
> 
> This started off as a kinktober prompt fill and got a bit out of hand hahaha... I had a lot of fun exploring concepts and how Lucifer and Saburouta might interact.
> 
> Wasn't an easy write, that's for sure. But it was pretty damn satisfying. >_>
> 
> **Disclaimer: The author does not condone the actions of the characters. This is not healthy. Consensual- yes!- but it doesn't really fall under safe and sane. Never attempt any of this at home I beg of you! >_>**

Things have been a little hectic since he got back. Ever since he showed up with Karura in tow, Saburouta’s been corralled from one base to another for testing and sampling and experiments.

They’ve cut away enough samples of skin and muscle and bone to construct a whole new him, but the tests just seem to keep coming endlessly. He’s in Souma base now, wearing a hospital gown, sitting on yet another examination table.

“Oh, I must warn you, today might be painful,” Edgar, one of the head scientists in Souma base, says as he shuffles about, “We’re going to figure out some objective parameters of Karura’s regenerative power. For your own sake, I hope you’ve had a hearty breakfast, Saburouta-san.”

Well that sounds… he’s not sure fun is the right word. But none other come to mind.

“I think I’ll be fine, thank you, Edgar-san,” Saburouta replies with a polite smile. He swings his feet over the edge of the table absent-mindedly. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“No, no, just get comfortable and sit while I get everything ready,” Edgar replies. His assistant is setting up a table of various… very sharp objects. She sets them down in neat rows with soft metallic clatters. They both pull on plastic overcoats and aprons, as well as gloves and shield visors.

Saburouta smiles somewhat wryly. His guess on what exactly ‘objective parameters of regenerative power’ are seems to have been right. And it seems it might get very messy, judging by their outfits.

He exhales harshly through his nose and begins readying himself mentally. Who knows? Maybe he’ll even enjoy it. He thinks back to the sensation of being shot in the head back in Kyoto. He thinks back to the sensation of crumbling into dust, in the sweet pain of being disconnected from his physical body. 

He thinks back to the sharp sting of a scalpel on his skin, deep ache of the bone drill. Breathes deeply, tries to reframe the memories in his mind. It was good. It was nice. It hurt, but there was more to the feeling- something hazy and pleasant.

He feels a wave of heat run out over his body. His skin tingles, ready and begging to be sliced into. Saburouta breathes deeply through his nose again. Something deep-seated is unfurling in his brain. He’s going to _like_ this, he tells himself, and believes it a lot more this time.

“I’m sorry we can’t use anaesthetic this time, Saburouta-san,” Edgar says as he fumbles with some kind of folder. Saburouta spies the picture of another demon eater. “It would tamper with the results too much. You will have to bear with the pain.”

“It’s not a problem,” Saburouta says, his expression between a kind smile and a smirk, “I assure you that I have a rather high pain tolerance.”

“That’s very good,” Edgar replies, walking over to Saburouta and signalling his assistant to do the same, “Ahh, perhaps we may even get through this in one day for once...”

Saburouta raises his eyebrows in a questioning way, “Did the others struggle with it?” He... likes the idea of being the best of the lot. Well, they’ll know for sure when they start if he is but... It definitely motivates him. He bites the inside of his cheek. Feels the flush spread across his cheeks.

“Oh, yes,” Edgar says with an awkward chuckle, “We kept having to take breaks… the others, they simply couldn’t sit still for it. That’s why we have the restraints-” he gestures to the thick leather cuffs built into the frame”-but hopefully you won’t need them.”

The door to the laboratory opens suddenly. In the doorway… stands Lucifer.

“Commander-!” Edgar exclaims, visibly startled, before he bows politely, “did you need something?”

“I’m here to watch the proceedings,” Lucifer replies neutrally. He’s on his feet, so it must be a good day.

“Ah, excuse me, but - you want to… watch?” Edgar asks, baffled, “Are you sure? Why?”

“I wanted to watch the others too, but my state wouldn’t allow it. These are my people, Edgar-san, I wish to watch over them. To see and respect what they do for me and the organisation.”

Saburouta squirms where he sits a little bit. He suddenly regrets the kind of idea that he's going into this with, but it's a little late to change his mind. Surely if he were to get hot and bothered it would be… perhaps not better, but less bad than, say, passing out or throwing up from pain?

Oh, this is going to be… a bit awkward, he thinks. More so than previously anticipated.

He seems to catch Lucifer’s gaze. It’s as piercing and indecipherable as ever.

“Good day, Commander,” Saburouta says in an attempt to disperse the odd mood in the laboratory, “You seem well today.”

“Thank you, Saburouta-san,” Lucifer replies in a levelled voice. “You seem well too... So far.”

He makes his way over to one of the desks and sits down. It’s a spot where he can see everything quite well.

Saburouta feels… very aware of the surveillance cameras, and Edgar, and his assistant, and Lucifer, and… what’s about to happen. He feels his heart speed up. He feels naked and vulnerable. And, oh no (oh yes?), he feels… _excited_ already.

“Let us begin,” Edgar says, holding a data pad and a voice recorder, “The date is August 15th, eight hundred hours and twenty-five minutes. The subject is Saburouta Toudou, a demon eater currently in possession of the demon Karura. The goal of this experiment is determining regenerative ability granted by the demon Karura. We start off with a number 11 scalpel, making a small incision upon the right antebrachium, anterior surface.”

The assistant takes one of the blades from the table and holds her arm out. Saburouta holds his own out in return, palm up. She holds his wrist in a firm yet gentle hold and drags the blade over the skin of his forearm, an incision about five centimetres in length, and not too deep. 

Edgar clicks the chronometer. The cut bleeds sluggishly.

‘This is just the first one...’ Saburouta thinks as he watches a bead of blood trail down over the curve of his forearm. ‘And he said that the other demon eaters needed more than one day to get through the experiments. Just how far is he going to go?’

“Time,” the assistant says, and Edgar clicks the chronometer. The wound’s closed up.

“Five seconds,” Edgar says. “Next, a large incision.”

The assistant wipes the cut with a moist tissue. The blades really _bites in_ this time. From the inner elbow to the base of the wrist. Saburouta’s breath hitches. He can feel the dermis splitting apart under the point, can see the sheen of fat and fascia glimmer within the bed of the wound before blood wells up in it. The scalpel goes through a shallow vein on its way, and the bleeding is stronger this time. It drips on his hospital gown.

Fifteen seconds. Good as new. Saburouta must admit that even he’s impressed.

Another incision, bigger still. Shoulder to wrist. Cutting into muscle. It hurts, a lot. Saburouta groans quietly and white-knuckles the edge of the bed with his free hand. The cut goes through an artery. It sprays in a beautiful arc, Edgar and the assistant just barely stepping back and avoiding it.

Saburouta breathes heavily as the edges of the wound adhere and fuse. Oh, it hurts. It’s bad. But it’s not _bad_. It might be a little too good, in fact. His heart is racing, and his face feels hot.

Twenty-five seconds. 

“Interesting,” Edgar mutters, “the timing’s different than in the others. Non-linear. The larger the wound, the faster it’s healing.”

“How does that, haa, compare? Is it good?” Saburouta asks. Then, he clears his throat because that had come out a bit too _hoarse_.

“Hard to say as of yet,” Edgar replies, “We’ll have to keep going.”

They carve Saburouta up systematically. Different places on his body, different blades - all timed and filed away. Saburouta finds himself growing more and more flustered, squirming and groaning with the pain and the… _ah…_

He’s lucky that they didn’t ask him to take off his underwear - it’s tight enough that nothing is visible beneath the hospital gown in this position. Still, the situation is rather precarious.

“Lie back, please,” Edgar says, holding up a bone saw. Saburouta just about dies inside.

The new pose is, _hmm_. He bends his knees and tilts his hips just a bit so that nothing's too obvious. 

Saburouta looks down the length of the bed and meets Lucifer’s gaze. _Fuck_ , he’d forgotten the commander was even here with how quiet he’s been. The Light-King holds his gaze for a moment before his gaze drops lower, and Saburouta swears that Lucifer _knows_.

“Should we strap down just the leg or everything?” Edgar asks as he hikes up the hospital gown roughly to expose the entirety of Saburouta’s thigh, making the demon eater bite back an indignant yelp. Edgar's initial politeness has drifted off and away, replaced by a cool sort of methodical indifference.

(It's kind of hot.)

“Uh,” Saburouta says, because he’s not entirely sure. He doesn’t even know which way he’d embarrass himself less.

Edgar stares down at him with an unimpressed sort of look, “You’ve been good about this so far, but this one’s really going to hurt. Think - can you handle it?”

Saburouta notices Edgar holding the voice recorder. His and the assistant’s body language.

Is this where the others chickened out? He considers it for a moment, though his reasoning is a bit different.

“Will it be just the leg or will you do more afterwards?” he asks, gauging.

“Just the leg, and then we’ll take a lunch break,” Edgar replies.

“Then you don’t need to tie me all down,” Saburouta says.

There’s a pause.

“As you say.” Edgar fastens the cuff over his left leg, pulling it tight. Saburouta hates that the feeling goes straight to his dick. Lunch break. After this. He’ll probably run into a restroom and relieve himself. Fuck, even the changing room will do.

Saburouta flinches as Edgar holds something out in front of his face. “I forgot about this earlier, but I think you’ll need it now. Bite down.”

Saburouta accepts the object - a thick square of leather - and places it between his teeth carefully. It’s hard enough that his fangs don’t puncture it immediately. 

“Alright,” Edgar says, his voice strangely loud in the room, “Test number thirty-five. Above-the-knee amputation of the left leg,” he grips Saburouta’s thigh, pulling the skin taught. His grip is tight and bruising and _very_ _nice_.

Saburouta feels his blood rushing through his body, so loud that he can’t hear anything else. His eyes are squeezed shut and his hands have the edges of the bed in a bloodless grip.

He knows Lucifer is watching. Can probably see up his gown. Can probably see _everything_. He feels so lewd.

Oh, this whole situation is just _horrible_.

He gasps at the first pass of the saw. It goes clean in, the serrated edges splitting the skin and muscle effortlessly. The second pass has the pain crawling up and down his leg as it seizes up in Edgar’s grip against Saburouta’s will. The grip tightens accordingly to keep the limb still.

The fifth pass hits bone.

Saburouta arches sharply off the bed with a loud groan-scream-yelp and tears in his eyes. The pain is blinding. It shoots up his spine like lightning and rips through his body like red-hot steel - he wants nothing more than to pull away away away-

Hands on his hip and sternum push him back down onto the bed roughly, sucker punching him back into the present moment. 

“Stay still, Saburouta-san,” the assistant says in a pleasant voice. Saburouta groans through the leather again. The pain is driving him insane, and the sound - the sound of the bone saw. The dreadful wet grind. The slick sound of _meat_.

He pushes his head back against the mattress with a heavy huff through his nose. He can feel the blood loss and the adrenaline rush - the room is spinning wildly now, his heart hammering wildly. 

And then it all starts to fade away. He’s not sure if it’s some kind of endogenous biomechanism or plain old dissociation but his brain disconnects from the pain. It’s still there, he still feels it… but it’s no longer _painful_.

Saburouta moans as a strange rush washes over him from head to toe. He squirms again, but it’s different this time. He’s not trying to draw away from the saw. He just wants some _friction_.

He uses every single last thread of self-control to keep his hands where they are on the edges of the bed and away from his dick. He needs to ride this out. 

There’s a lunch break after this. Come on, Saburouta! Try and not make this a complete disaster.

The bone saw snaps through the last bits of his femur audibly. There’s a squelch as Edgar overestimates his strength and slides the blade further than intended, bumping his knuckles into the tender, open wound of the amputation site.

Saburouta sees stars and whimpers embarrassingly loud, jaw clenching, teeth sinking deep into the leather.

“Sorry,” Edgar huffs as he rights himself. There’s sweat glistening on his brow, Saburouta notes through his fucked up little haze. And, ah, his hands are so close to-

He squeezes his eyes shut again, breathing heavily. He’s so _close_ it’s not even remotely funny.

The saw cuts through the last of the muscle. Edgar sighs in exasperation as he throws the bone saw on the metal table with a loud clang and clicks the chronometer.

“Wonder how long this’ll take you, big boy,” he says, half teasing, “the others ranged from a few minutes to half an hour.”

Saburouta doesn’t trust himself to unclench his jaw or open his eyes right now, so he ignores the question. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care about that currently. He’s busy trying to not come in his underwear like a hormonal teen.

He resists the urge to squeeze his thighs together, lest it draw attention to his predicament.

But luck doesn’t seem to be on his side because as the assistant moves to straighten out the hospital gown, she manages to do it in a way that brushes up against his poor erect dick, and Saburouta, the absolute clown that he is, _moans_.

And this time it can’t even be misconstrued as a moan of pain. It’s a full-out erotic sort of thing, voice breaking in the middle and all.

“Fuh-ck,” he says around the square of leather immediately afterwards, “Thorry.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

He’s so embarrassed right now. His whole body feels like it’s on fire. Bad enough that this is in front of the science people, but he must remember that _Lucifer_ is there too.

Saburouta covers his flaming hot face with his hands and draws his good knee up self-consciously. He can feel the other leg re-growing. He wills it to do so faster just so he can, quite frankly, _run away_.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Edgar says softly with a chuckle, “Knew it was suspicious when you didn’t react to the pain as much.”

Saburouta peeks through his fingers at the scientist to find the other man looking down at him with a mean yet amused smirk.

“Don’t worry Saburouta-san, happens to the best of us,” he says in a voice that says _no it doesn’t you’re just a fucked up kind of guy,_ ”you can go _take a shower_ before lunch break,” he adds with a snicker before turning his attention back to the chronometer and the leg.

Saburouta groans gently with embarrassment and gingerly removes the piece of leather from his mouth. It’s soaked in spit and has a prominent impression of his teeth in it. He doesn’t say anything.

There really isn’t anything _to_ say right now. He lies there and waits for either the test to end or the ground to swallow him up, whichever might come first.

“Can you move it?” Edgar asks after a moment. 

Saburouta looks down to find his leg fully healed and intact. He tests lifting it up, bending the knee. “Yeah,” he mutters.

“A minute until full regeneration,” Edgar says, slightly awed, “That’s phenomenal.” He runs a hand over Saburouta’s knee, the soft latex of his gloves catching against the smooth skin. “And it feels the same as before?”

“I think so, yes,” Saburouta answers, marginally holding himself from withdrawing the limb from the touch.

“Ow,” he says softly when Edgar pinches the skin there tightly. It feels a bit silly to say ‘ow’ to that after what literally just happened. Saburouta sees the scientist bite his lip to keep from laughing, but he smooths his face out right afterwards.

“Wow,” Edgar mouths with a last pat to the limb. He then withdraws the hand and stands back, a polite distance away. Pulls the recorder from his pocket and clicks the off button. “Well, that’s if for now, feel free to take a shower, get something to eat, and we’ll be coming back to continue in five hours.”

Saburouta feels his eyebrows raise, “Five hours?”

Edgar smiles back wryly, “You don’t want to get cut open on a full stomach. Five is already barely enough. We’ll have to tube you to make sure your stomach’s empty. We’ll start parsing through the data in the meantime.”

He removes his gloves into the bin with little regard. Same with the soiled plastic overcoat.

Saburouta hops off the bed gingerly, the floor cold and smooth beneath his bare feet. Belatedly, he realises that his uniform sits folded on the same desk that Lucifer is sitting at.

Damn.

“Well, that was fun,” Saburouta says with a laugh that’s just a tad forced and a shaky sort of smile as he saunters up to the desk to grab his stuff.

Lucifer looks back at him thoughtfully. “Yes,” he replies simply.

Annnd that’s Saburouta’s cue to just. Leave. God. This is… so embarrassing. Why the fuck did he say “fun”? That only brings back attention to the fact that he popped a boner and almost got off to being mutilated.

‘Stupid!’ he thinks as he slaps his face beratingly and enters the shower room. 'Oh god, why are you like this? Just what is wrong with you, Saburouta?'

He washes in scalding water and jacks off quick and rough. Pulls on his uniform and slicks back his still-wet hair. 

The face that stares back at him in the mirror… he's still getting used to it. The smooth skin and the faint flush. The openness of his face. He looks too _young_ , too fresh. Saburouta’s never felt young before in his life. He’s hesitant to start now.

It’s like... finding something years after you’re done needing it. It would be silly of him to go out and pretend to be a young man that’s just getting the hang of adulthood - going to parties or whatever it is that young adults do. 

He can’t deny a sort of morbid curiosity, though. Just what has he missed…?

Saburouta averts his gaze so as to not go too far down this rabbit hole of a thought. It keeps sneaking up on him, and it’s getting annoying by now. Mercifully, his stomach growls obnoxiously loud. Right. Lunch.

God, he’s _starving_. Heh. Nothing works up an appetite quite like dismemberment.

When he exits the shower room, the scientists are gone. But… Lucifer is still there. Saburouta just barely keeps himself from turning around and going back into the shower room. It’s too late, though. Lucifer spotted him the second the door opened.

“Oh, Commander, you’re still here?” Saburouta asks, lacking for literally anything else to say.

“Yes, I was waiting for you, Saburouta,” Lucifer answers simply, “I thought that we should take lunch together.”

Oh…

“I would be honoured to spend lunch with you, Commander,” Saburouta answers pleasantly, but he’s screaming just a little on the inside. He needs a little time before he can face Lucifer after this whole thing, but… guess there is none. He rights his face into a pleasant smile, “Shall we, then?”

“Yes.” Lucifer looks at him expectantly and it takes Saburouta entirely too long to realise that he wants assistance in getting up. Saburouta helps him from the chair - he’s done it before. But his hand over Lucifer’s back feels odd as he helps the other push up and off.

Just as Saburouta is about to withdraw to a polite distance afterwards, Lucifer speaks again.

“Would you help me walk?”

Though taken aback for a moment, Saburouta comes back in close, “Certainly.”

He hadn’t gotten a good look before, but the sickly sheen on Lucifer’s face is quite prominent today. Saburouta’s quite frankly surprised that the other isn’t using the wheelchair today. Or, more likely, he’d deteriorated between the early morning and now. 

Saburouta finds his own worries and awkwardness melting away as he lets his doctor training kick in. Standing on Lucifer’s left he holds the Commander’s left palm at hip level and holds his own right hand over the Commander’s lower back, and they start to walk.

They make their way through the base towards the mess hall at a measured, dignified pace in comfortable quiet.

“Karura is quite impressive. I can feel your heat through all these layers,” Lucifer remarks when they’re about halfway there.

Saburouta chuckles a little awkwardly, “Yeah, she’s changed my bodily functions quite a bit. I feel like a furnace. Just can’t seem to cool down no matter what.”

“Hmm, you could lend me some of that. I’m always cold,” Lucifer says in a soft and mild tone. It takes Saburouta a bit to realise that was a joke, and he lets out a very unprofessional sort of spluttering laugh.

“Oh, if only I could!” he says joyfully. Lucifer’s mouth curls into half-a-smile.

The comfortable silence settles over them again until they reach the mess hall. Saburouta helps Lucifer sit down at a table and then goes about arranging food for the two of them.

When he sits down again, he’s suddenly hit by… the fact that it’s just the two of them.

“Commander, where’s your safety detail?” Saburouta asks, eyeing the room. He’d been too preoccupied before, but he hasn’t seen either of the twins or Homare today, or any of the other bodyguards.

“They’re about,” Lucifer answers as he stirs his soup, “I assured them that I would be fine for now. I’ll be meeting them afterwards and head back to headquarters.”

Saburouta nods but feels an odd sort of feeling in his chest. Lucifer ditched his whole detail to… hang out with him? That is essentially what this is. No… what was it that Lucifer had said before?

‘ _I wanted to watch the others too, but my state wouldn’t allow it._ ’

‘This isn’t personal,’ Saburouta tells himself as he digs in finally, no longer able to ignore his hunger with all the wonderful smells in front of him, ‘he’s just being considerate.’

He still can’t figure out just why the Commander would choose to go without his security detail. They can’t have been happy about it... but it’s worked out in Saburouta’s favour in the end. The less witnesses to his _proclivities_ , the better.

Determined to drop these thoughts from his mind, Saburouta digs in. 

It’s very easy to drop thinking while eating. His appetite is _ravenous_. It’s been a lot bigger since he got Karura, but currently his stomach feels like an endless pit. He’s eating more than seems physically possible for a man his size and _then some_.

Saburouta’s slurping up a bowl of noodles rather obnoxiously when he catches Lucifer looking at him. Immediately, he realises his absolute lack of decorum. He empties his mouth immediately and chokes out a ‘Sorry’ and wipes his mouth with a napkin. 

Man, he just keeps being everything _but_ his best in front of the other.

Lucifer seems to come awake from a sort of daze, “Oh, it wasn’t like that, Saburouta-san. I’m just impressed by your appetite. It’s understandable that you’re very hungry right now, considering...”

Saburouta brings up a hand to cover his face, still embarrassed despite the reassurance, “Hungry yes, but that’s no excuse for being rude… I must apologise for that.”

Lucifer blinks at him, one of the corners of his mouth coming up in a weak smile, “You’ve always been so polite, it’s quite cu-” he pauses,” … What I mean is - there’s no need to be so self-conscious, Saburouta. You’re allowed to indulge yourself. I don’t mind,” Lucifer says as he redirects his gaze to the crystal glass filled with seltzer.

“I, ah, okay, th-thank you,” Saburouta says and immediately kicks himself mentally. He hasn’t stuttered for real in years now. What the hell? But he just doesn’t know how to deal with this Lucifer that’s so… casual. This is not their usual commander-underling dynamic. It feels… friendly? Is that it?

Saburouta decides to just… let this be and returns his attention to the food, albeit he takes a much more temperate pace now.

Neither of them speaks for the remainder of the meal.

When they’re done eating, Saburouta helps Lucifer to the hangar where his security detail awaits. Gunnar and Gunnan nod at him before heading to the carrier to, presumably, get Lucifer’s wheelchair.

“Good day, Saburouta-san,” Homare says neutrally, “How are you finding the experiments?”

“Hi, Homare-san,” Saburouta replies with a smile and a little wave, “They’re not too bad. They work up a serious appetite though.”

Homare nods in acknowledgement, “That’s good to hear,” then she turns her attention to Lucifer, “How are you feeling, Commander?”

“Acceptable,” Lucifer replies smoothly, “I think I will need some rest after we return, but otherwise I am still functional for today.”

Homare nods. At that moment, Gunnar and Gunnan return with the wheelchair and, after they get Lucifer settled, they all disappear up the ramp.

Homare waves to Saburouta through a thinning gap as the ramp raises, and he waves back, the other hand settled behind his back as he stands in a sort-of parade rest.

When the carrier’s off, he relaxes and heads over to the base library for some light reading. He still has a bunch of time to kill before he must return to the laboratory.

\--

“Welcome back, Saburouta-san,” Edgar greets him as he walks through the door. He’s wearing a devilish smile right about now, already gloved and gowned up, resting his weight against the edge of the bed cockily, “Are you ready for _round two_?”

Saburouta feels his cheeks get hot at the double entendre, but wills himself to keep his face neutral, “Yes, Edgar-san.”

“You can go get off really quick before we begin,” Edgar says, his smile widening meanly, “might save you a bit of embarrassment later. We’ll be going for your insides this time around, so no underwear.”

Saburouta stares at him, stuck between horrified and just plain indignant. Then, he hangs his head with a heavy sigh and heads over to the shower room again.

He hears Edgar’s delighted laughter up until he closes the door behind him.

\--

A week later, Saburouta’s managed to put the worst of that day out of his mind. It happened, it was awkward, it’s over now. That’s it.

Well, at least he _thinks_ so.

Saburouta gets a summon to headquarters. The Dominus Liminis is a big thing. She took off for the first time a few months ago, so he’s only visited twice.

It still blows his mind that such a large base is just… airborne. He had the grand tour on his first visit. This thing is like if you took a huge cruise liner and then put it in the sky and gave it guns and labs.

Saburouta walks down the hall and it feels like a strange, modern mansion - the ceilings are high and vaulted, the light fixtures are delicate and beautiful but still have that futuristic sort of chic.

He certainly likes it a lot better than the previous headquarters. (It wasn’t even really a base - just Lucifer’s estate - and they met there on principle because the Commander was not able to travel freely. That old house had reminded Saburouta of the Toudou family home _way too much_. He’d gotten shivers every time he stepped through the front doors.)

By a stroke of luck, he manages to find the entrance of Lucifer’s chambers a lot quicker than he’d hoped. Saburouta had remembered the way wrong, it seems, but whatever.

“I’m here to see the commander,” Saburouta says as he walks up to the guards. They nod and let him enter.

Lucifer’s chambers are… spacious, to put it incredibly mildly. It’s like a ballroom. The sides of the room have inlet ponds with water lilies growing. A few of the leaves have flower buds next to them. The water is crystal clear and reflects the walls and lights from up above like a mirror’s surface. Saburouta stops mid-stride to take the view in.

“They don’t bloom in this lighting,” the commander’s voice interrupts Saburouta’s moment of awe.

Lucifer half-sits upon a bed that stands on a dais. Saburouta can hear the faint beeping of medical equipment but cannot see it.

“Hello, Commander. It is a pleasure to see you,” Saburouta says with a polite smile as he comes up to the edge of the dais and eases into a parade rest. Then, he looks at the lilies again, “A pity about the flowers. They would look beautiful here.” There’s a slight pause, and Saburouta brings his attention back to Lucifer. “Have you summoned me for some kind of mission, Commander? Or more research, perhaps?”

Lucifer peers at him, face neutral, “Nothing quite like that, Saburouta. I wanted to talk.”

Saburouta tilts his head inquisitively, interest piqued. Then, he eyes the room at large, noting a very distinct absence.

“Is it personal, Commander?” Saburouta asks, “I can’t help but notice that we are… alone.”

“It is of a personal nature, I suppose,” Lucifer says, taking on a ruminative tone, “I thought you’d feel more comfortable if it were just the two of us.”

“Ah, me?” Saburouta asks. He feels the start of anxiety somewhere deep in his abdomen.

“Yes. I feared that you might feel somewhat… uneasy about what I wanted to ask you,” Lucifer explains. 

And, really, the explanation is just making Saburouta’s nerves worse. “Ah… What is it exactly? That you want to ask?”

“How do you derive pleasure from pain?” Lucifer asks. His voice has a sort of emotion that is usually absent. An earnestness that makes Saburouta pause.

“How do I...” he trails off, not getting the question at first.

“During the experiment,” Lucifer elaborates, “you found pleasure when they cut into you. I could see it from the very beginning, but it wasn’t _obvious_ until near the end. How could you do that? What exactly was so pleasant about it? Did you take something beforehand?”

Saburouta stands there, still as a statue, face completely blank but growing hot and red at Lucifer’s words. And, oh, they continue-

“I keep thinking back to it,” Lucifer admits, “I run through what happened in my head time and time again. But it just doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand it. Liking pain seems… so counter intuitive. It stands for damage and all that is unwell… and yet...” Lucifer’s brows furrow as he looks down at Saburouta, who by now has reached the approximate hue of a tomato.

“Did you always enjoy it? Is it something new, to do with Karura? I want you to explain it to me, Saburouta.” Lucifer’s tone is almost pleading. He’s… really been thinking hard about this.

Saburouta takes a very deep breath and lets it out through pursed lips. Oh, this... This is going to be a messy conversation, he fears. Where does he even begin with this? He feels Lucifer’s gaze digging into him with the sharpness of a knife. It makes the anxiety and shame rise up inside him. 

Saburouta swallows thickly, “Excuse me. I think… I’ll need a moment to straighten out my thoughts, Commander.”

Lucifer’s brow furrows further but he nods in acceptance, “I understand how it might be a complicated subject.” Still, his hands grip more tightly onto the edge of the blanket, a dead giveaway of his frustration and impatience.

Saburouta turns away as he rubs at his heated face. Alright, so… he needs to think how to explain this. What a messed-up situation he’s found himself in. Explaining kinks to his boss. Worse even, the kink in question is a very sore subject for said boss. 

Lucifer hates pain, Saburouta knows. Loathes it like he loathes few other things. Not that Saburouta could blame him, the kind of pain that Lucifer feels constantly is. Most certainly not pleasurable.

Does he really have it in him to explain the nuances of this? Saburouta chews on his lip worriedly. ‘ _Think, come on!_ ’ Saburouta urges himself but finds his head fuzzy and pitifully empty.

Oh, _fuck it_.

He spins around on his heel with a decidedly awkward smile, “Well, to start off, I should make it clear that our perceptions of pain are very different, Commander.”

Lucifer frowns at him. Doesn’t say anything.

“I am fortunate enough to not be in pain all the time,” Saburouta says delicately, “so there’s a certain… novelty to the feeling,” he pauses, trying to gauge what Lucifer must be thinking about now. His mouth feels dry. “And that... novelty, coupled with a regenerative ability… can, ah, how to put it...? It’s… exciting?”

“You like pain… because it excites you?” Lucifer asks. It looks like a difficult concept to him.

Saburouta finds himself growing more flustered again. God, he feels like he’s back in his youth - all nervous and wrong-footed and _awkward_. “N-not quite? The excitement just adds onto it, I guess. I, uhm, e-enjoy the actual pain.” The end of his sentence tilts upwards like a question. He winces on the inside at his own tone.

“You enjoy pain by itself,” Lucifer says, “I… I’m not sure I understand.”

“Yes, I… I’m not sure how to...” Saburouta starts, his thoughts getting jumbled. He sighs. Honestly, he’s never really examined this side of him before. “I didn’t always like it, I think.”

“Did it start with Karura?” Lucifer prompts.

“No, it was before Karura…” Saburouta frowns, trying to pin-point the first time he really enjoyed pain and coming up blank. “I’m not sure when, though. Perhaps around the first time I ate a demon? It had a healing factor too...” he thinks back to the time. In the strange haze that had followed, he’d stabbed a shard of glass clean through his palm. “I got hurt that time, and… the healing just felt good.”

“The healing? Not the injury?” Lucifer asks. He’s turned very thoughtful.

“That time… yes. I think it was the healing that felt good. But then, later… The injuries started feeling good too. It’s- ah-” Saburouta scratches the back of his neck, “-I’m not sure if you’re understanding what I’m saying. I’m- This is- I’ve never thought about this, let alone talked…”

“I think I understand… I just don’t think I can accept that someone could like pain for pain’s sake,” Lucifer says slowly, like he’s tasting the words. “Does it always feel good? Or is there some kind of limit?”

“It’s… not quite like that,” Saburouta explains, “It’s more about the mindset, rather than the injury itself, if that makes sense? Like, it doesn’t feel good during a fight, because whoever or whatever I’m fighting is trying to kill me, you know? But, say, a controlled environment with someone I trust that I’ve talked about it with...”

Lucifer nods, but then a confused expression settles over his face again, “But the experiment? Did you know that scientist?”

Saburouta lets out a very awkward chuckle, “Ah, that was- a sort of exception. He said that they couldn’t use anaesthesia and I knew they wouldn’t kill me, so I-” he cuts off, too flustered to keep talking. Clears his throat, “Well, I was, ah, very lucky that he found it humorous rather than got upset. I must admit that wasn’t my best moment.”

Lucifer seems to catch onto something, “Saburouta, are you ashamed of it?”

Saburouta would like to end this conversation at this point. It’s already gone further than he’s fully comfortable with. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t… but it’s, ah, complicated…”

“It was a rather unorthodox situation,” Lucifer muses with a faint smile, “And you are a rather unorthodox man…”

“I thought it might be better to get something out of it rather than just suffer through it… but I wasn’t counting on you showing up…” Saburouta says in a small voice.

“Indeed,” Lucifer agrees, “Though I find myself strangely pleased to have caught you by surprise.”

Saburouta looks up at the Demon-King with a startled sort of expression. Why?

“I think you would have chosen to suffer through it and suppress any pleasant feelings, had you known...” Lucifer continues, and, well, he’s not _wrong_. “And then I would never have found out about… the pleasure you draw from pain.”

“I, ah,” Saburouta stammers, “Forgive me, Commander. I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that.”

“You’re very proper,” Lucifer says, and something in his gaze has changed between a minute ago and now, “Always more concerned about decorum and politeness than your own wants and needs. It’s rare to catch a glimpse of the animal inside of you, even while being painfully aware that it exists.”

Saburouta opens his mouth but ends up closing it without saying anything. He supposes that that is the impression he's left to Lucifer, even if it's not the complete truth. Far from it, even. He feels like an ant burning under a magnifying glass.

“But I saw it that day,” Lucifer continues, “Yes, you were pushing it down for the sake of propriety, but it was _there_. I didn’t get it at first, not fully. I was very... confused at what I saw. But this conversation… It has helped greatly. I understand you a little better now, Saburouta.”

“I-” Saburouta squeaks, then clears his throat _again_ , “I’m very flattered?” He’s not sure what he feels right now, truth be told. There’s a lot of conflicting emotions at play. “Forgive me, Commander, I’m… out of my element.” he admits a little weakly. Is this conversation over now? Can he just… run away?

“I understand,” Lucifer says. Now that whatever uneasy thoughts he’d had have settled, he looks warmer, softer. More like a saviour, like something holy. “Do you remember the first time we met, Saburouta?”

Saburouta smiles wryly, remembering his younger self, “I could never forget, Commander. I made such a fool of myself.”

“I’ve come to find it endearing,” Lucifer admits. “You were so scared and eager. I thought you might pass out from nerves… you’ve changed quite a bit.”

What are these subject changes? Saburouta feels he might get whiplash. “That I have. For better in some respects, for worse in others,” he smiles, suddenly melancholic, “hard to believe it’s been sixteen years.”

"Mm, yes," Lucifer says, "I feel like we both look a bit younger than we did sixteen years ago."

Saburouta can't help the spluttering laugh he lets out. "Oh, you could say that!"

There's a bit of a silence. Lucifer's slight smile grows sombre and it makes Saburouta nervous once he realises.

"I have a confession to make," Lucifer says, "I lied."

Saburouta stares wide-eyed, at once curious and on edge, "What about, Commander?"

"The day of the experiment, I said that I had been wanting to see all of the demon eaters be tested in that manner," Lucifer says in a matter-of-fact voice, "that was a lie. Though I was interested in the results for all, I only wanted to _see_ you. I'd been hearing rumours about how you'd changed since obtaining Karura. And some of those rumours were… more salacious than others. I was, though deeply confused, curious."

Saburouta finds it a little hard to speak. "W-well, Commander… that's…"

"That's not all," Lucifer cuts him off. "Today, I said that I sent my safety detail away because this conversation might be awkward for you otherwise. That… wasn't necessarily a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth."

He stops speaking, looking at Saburouta with the kind of expression that means _so much_ but is impossible to read.

"What…" Saburouta starts, cautious, "is the whole truth?"

"The whole truth is…” Lucifer seems to debate whatever he is about to say for a second,” that I would like to see you not hold back. I would like to see you up close and open as you… enjoy pain. It was so mesmerising, so tantalising to watch you as those scientists cut into you. It was hard to not just… get up and come in close."

Saburouta's heart stops for a fraction of a second before resuming work in double-time as he digests the words. "You mean- You want me to-"

"Yes," Lucifer answers the stilted question. His gaze smoulders like burning coals.

Saburouta doesn't know what to _do_.

"...if you are willing," Lucifer adds, a little more withdrawn.

"I'm… " Saburouta says and then trails off. Is he willing? Does he want to show Lucifer? Moreover, is he comfortable essentially mutilating himself and getting off in front of Lucifer? Up close and open… Something about that sounds so incredibly intense. Something about the idea feels extremely taboo. But then Saburouta likes _being wrong_.

“I could… try...” he says, lamely.

“Wonderful,” Lucifer says, his countenance changing yet again. There’s the slightest of smiles- (smirks? Whatever it is, it’s extremely satisfied-) on his face. A hungry kind of spark in his eyes.

“I should… undress then…” Saburouta says, not fully sure of what he’s saying. Lucifer’s face is intense.

“Yes,” he answers simply.

“Is… ah, is there surveillance?” Saburouta asks, hands poised at the first button of his uniform jacket, but not opening it.

“Yes, but no one will see it,” Lucifer says, pauses, “...unless you want them to?”

“I- haha- I don’t… really know…” Saburouta says, stumbling over his words. The idea of some poor chump up in surveillance seeing what he’s about to do… it’s weird, but not necessarily bad? He’s not sure, his head’s all wound up right now. He undoes the first button of the jacket, immediately feeling improper and scandalous.

 _‘Lucifer wants to see me…’_ he thinks, heart thudding. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He opens the second button. Something inside him is wound up tight and very close to just _snapping_. The quiet of the room is deafening. The sound of his own breathing is too loud, he’s breathing too heavy, too hot.

The third button opens. Saburouta finds his ears ringing.

“W-where should I...” he starts, tongue feeling too large and dry in his mouth, “where should I put my clothes...”

“Wherever you want,” Lucifer answers.

That’s… Okay…

Saburouta folds the jacket neatly and places it onto the first step of the dais. His shirt follows. He can almost feel himself giving off steam. The high body heat he’s had since getting Karura doesn’t go well with nerves.

Getting his boots off is probably the most awkward part of this. He’s hunched over, trying to keep his balance and take the one boot off. Saburouta wonders what Lucifer is thinking.

( _Saburouta, what the fuck are you even doing_?)

Saburouta loses his balance taking off the other boot. He manages to set his foot down just quick enough to not fall over but he does let out an embarrassing squawking noise. He looks up at Lucifer, a little afraid of what he might see on the other’s face-

But the expression is neutral, his head tilted to the side a bit, attentively.

Saburouta feels his face heat up. He returns his attention to getting his clothes off promptly.

This is weird. This is so weird. Sort of embarrassing, but… ah, he likes it too… Oh, who is he kidding!

This is so _hot_. Fuck. He’s definitely aroused by whatever is happening right now.

The pants and socks go quick, but he can’t help but hesitate with his hands on the hem of his underwear.

Lucifer looks on expectantly.

 _‘I’m about to be naked in front of my boss_ ,’ Saburouta thinks, feeling like his skin is burning. Really, with how hard he’s flushing, he wonders if there’s enough blood left over to get an erection.

He takes a fortifying breath and slides the briefs off. But then he’s stuck still and unable to even look at Lucifer, the garment clenched in his fist. There’s a horrifying feeling of finality settling over him. Suddenly, this all feels very real.

“You’re half-hard...” Lucifer notes after a moment of quiet. “Is this exciting?”

Saburouta forces his mouth and throat to work, “Yes...” He’s still not looking at Lucifer.

“Do you find me attractive?” Lucifer asks, and it’s so sudden and unexpected that Saburouta’s gaze snaps to his face.

“I, uh, I mean- yes?” he says. Lucifer’s gaze is binding. Steady.

Unwittingly, a bit of the tension leaves Saburouta. Lucifer knows what he wants. He isn’t about to change his mind and run off. He isn’t about to just send Saburouta off because he does something wrong.

Well, at least he hopes so.

“Where do you want me?” he asks, voice coming out a little weak.

“Come join me on the bed,” Lucifer answers, shifting backwards and more upright to free up space on the foot of the bed.

Saburouta climbs up on the sheets with shaking limbs and a racing heart. He settles on his knees. The bedding is baby blue soft silk, smooth and cool against his skin.

“Do you...” Saburouta starts, realising suddenly that he has no idea how to go about this now that he’s this far. He has nothing but his claws and teeth and that’s - well it works but it’s so _messy_. “Do you have a knife?”

Lucifer reaches beneath the pillows on his left and pulls out a sheathed dagger. The handle is ornate and shiny gold, the leather of the sheath is dull and black. He holds it out for Saburouta to take.

Saburouta accepts the blade with both hands. The metal is cool, the leather is warm. He opens the latch and slides the dagger out and- the blade isn’t metal, but rather - rock? Crystal? He’s not sure, but the shiny planes and the shape of the blade… suggest it was carved rather than forged.

The edge is uneven and jagged. The face of the blade shimmers in the overhead lights, glinting malevolently in poisonous colours. It’s honestly breath-taking.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Lucifer asks. There’s something in his voice - sensual, coaxing. “It hasn’t tasted flesh in a long, long time. Won’t you let it bite?”

"I will," Saburouta says softly, pressing the sharp edge against the fingers of his other hand and _dragging_. The skin parts easily, blood running. It barely even registers as pain. 

He's just… thrumming under his skin.

"Is it good?" Lucifer asks, eyeing the cut as it knits together.

Saburouta brings his hand up and licks the blood off. "Very." He makes a show of cleaning off the blade as well. It tastes like ash and death. He closes his eyes and sighs deeply, contentedly.

Yes, the anxiety is leaving now. Leaving his head a little bit clearer, though the haze of arousal is settling in its stead. He opens his eyes, and the colours look sharper, the contours are clearer. He can smell Lucifer’s skin - illness and disinfectant and _want_.

"Where do you want me to cut?" Saburouta not-quite purrs as he twirls the dagger idly in one hand. Lucifer's eyes follow the movement, mesmerised.

"Your thighs," he answers after a moment of thought. "Don't worry about making a mess."

Saburouta swallows, giddy. Settles the edge of the blade perpendicular to the length of his thigh. _Cuts_.

He hisses this time; the bite is deep, and the wound opens up wide like a wet mouth due to the stretch of his skin in the kneeling position. Blood wells up fast and overflows the bed of the wound, crawling down in rivulets. The cut starts shrinking as the blood hits the sheets.

“Wonderful blade,” Saburouta says in a thick voice, savouring the sting and the feel of the healing, “It’s so sharp, makes for a smooth slice.”

“You heal so fast it’s almost a pity,” Lucifer muses, watching as the skin once again turns whole and smooth and unblemished.

“True,” Saburouta agrees, “the previous demon I had was nice like that - enough time to savour the pain of it before it healed.” He runs his palm over the expanse of the skin, smearing the blood left there. “But this is still nice,” he says, dragging the tip of the blade from his knee up to his hip gently, just barely enough to break the skin.

He shudders at the sensation, exhaling in a hot huff.

“You’re heating up,” Lucifer notes, “I can feel you from here.”

Saburouta laughs a little helplessly, “Karura’s harder to control. I feel like I’m constantly on fire. But it’s, ha, worse right now.”

“Will you catch fire if you’re aroused enough?” Lucifer asks with genuine interest.

“Who knows? I just might,” Saburouta replies with a light laugh. He spins the knife so that he’s holding it blade-down in his fist and stabs it into the flesh of his other thigh.

The pain has him moaning and throwing his head back, spine arching, muscles clenching-

“Ah- ow-” he whines, hissing and biting his lip when he puts traction on the handle. Pain running up his leg - he can feel it in his spine, can feel the adrenaline rush, the instinct to fight. Saburouta laughs, drunk on the chemical cocktail of his emotions and reflexes.

Just a little deeper and- he can feel the tip of the blade knocking against his femur. It’s enough to bring tears to his eyes- hands jerking to the side to fist at the sheets tightly as he writhes, rides out the waves of pain, yelling through clenched teeth-

His dick is fully hard now, bared in the open for Lucifer to see. 

For a second after the worst of the pain passes, he stays bowed over backwards, head resting against the mattress where he can’t see the demon-king. His breaths are heavy, ragged. His skin is mottled red - stuck between a pallor of pain and a flush of arousal.

“Do you- haa- like what you see?” Saburouta asks, still splayed shamelessly. His voice is shaky, wet, _sensual_. He winces as he tries to flex the thigh in which the blade is lodged, a pathetic little moan escaping him, limbs twitching in some aborted movement.

It’s so bad. It’s so good. He feels the muscle and the skin trying to come back together and failing. His whole head is rushing violently with endorphins, brain alight with the conflicting sensations.

“Very,” Lucifer answers in a low, measured voice, “Your blood looks beautiful on the outside.”

Saburouta moans, laughs breathlessly at the praise, running his claws across his stomach roughly enough to draw blood, making himself hiss. “There’s more where that came from. Do you want to see it?”

“Yes,” Lucifer’s voice drips with a dark, hungry emotion.

Saburouta rights himself, hissing at the pain of the movement. Then, because he’s feeling a little bold to due arousal and the general chemical buzz, he pulls the knife out all showy-

Bites cutely down on a finger and moans, pulls his face into an expression of delicate pain-

There’s a slick sound as the blade comes clean. It’s so obscene, obscene, _obscene_.

“Where next?” he asks breathlessly. He can’t help but grin at Lucifer, perhaps a little madly, but surely the demon king does not mind.

Yes, there is no negative emotion in Lucifer’s eyes, on his face. He’s staring, transfixed, drinking in the sight before him. His gaze roves over Saburouta, from his knees to his poor, hard cock, to his flushed chest, to his face and tousled hair-

“Your neck,” Lucifer says softly, lifting a hand to rest gently against his own, “I want to see the blood flow down your chest.” The want coming off him is stronger now, more distinct in the air.

It has Saburouta lifting the knife to his throat, all too eager to comply. Just above the collar bones, deep enough to nick the outer jugular veins on either side, but nothing deeper. If he were to cut into his windpipe, he’d start coughing up blood, and that’s just not _sexy_.

He feels the blood run hot over his chest, his stomach, his thighs. It’s a potent stream for as long as it lasts, leaves him red all over, sitting in a puddle.

“Like this?” he asks in a sultry voice, running a hand over the mess.

Lucifer licks his lips, leaned forwards where he sits, “Yes. You’re giving off steam. It looks as if your blood has been boiling.” His eyes drop their gaze lower, to the sheets shiny and wet and _sanguine_. “It looks like a lot. Are you dizzy?”

Saburouta laughs, touching the cut- no longer there- “Well, not that kind of dizzy. But perhaps a little, yes.”

“Mm,” Lucifer hums, looking over Saburouta again in a savouring way, but his gaze seems to catch on-

“Won’t you touch yourself?” he asks, looking at Saburouta’s dick - red and wet and so terribly _neglected_. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth gently. There’s the faintest flush on his face. “You want to, right?”

“Ah,” Saburouta says, “But of course.” He takes himself in hand, squeezing tightly at the base, moving along the length- and it sounds so damn _wet_ and there’s so much _blood_ and he’s such a _mess_ -

Saburouta moans whorishly as he jacks off, his other hand gripping the sheets and the knife, head lolled to the side.

“There,” Lucifer says, a strangely giddy tone, “that’s what I wanted to see. _Let go_.”

And Saburouta does. He chases that high selfishly, working himself just how likes it, heedless of how loud he may be. 

His eyes are closed, so he’s quite surprised when he feels a cool, dry hand cover his own - the one gripping the sheets and the knife.

Saburouta’s eyes open to find Lucifer so very, _very close_. He can make out the demon king’s eyelashes. Can breathe him in deep. His entire body shudders.

“Let me,” Lucifer says softly, and what can Saburouta do but give him the knife?

Saburouta finds himself coming to a complete stop as Lucifer lifts the knife up to inspect the blade. Gently, with just the tip of his tongue, he licks a swathe of Saburouta’s blood off the blade and- and Saburouta finds it hard to breathe-

“You taste like fire,” Lucifer remarks, his eyes smouldering, “lie back.”

Saburouta complies, lying back after getting his legs out from under him, and- and Lucifer settles in between his thighs, looking down at him with a hunger, the knife glinting-

Saburouta will not go to heaven after everything he’s done in his life. But this? This is pretty fucking close. His heart is fluttering in his chest - anticipatory and elated and all but leaping into his throat.

“Keep going,” Lucifer says as he braces a hand by Saburouta’s waist, half leaning over him. He looks somewhat amused and a lot self-satisfied as he holds the dagger aloft. Their bodies are touching- Lucifer’s thighs tucked under Saburouta’s on one side, and his hip resting against the other.

Saburouta is painfully aware that they are both naked. He brings a hand -it’s shaking a little- back to his dick, all but jolting at the contact. He’s so keyed up. He’s so _desperate_.

“Go on,” Lucifer says as he lowers the blade so it rests against Saburouta’s belly. Saburouta’s breaths are shaking as he moves his hand again, the pleasure seeming infinitely more overwhelming than before.

Lucifer cuts a shallow line over his sternum that makes him hiss. It’s a slow thing, barely cutting through the skin. But, god, it- it feels so good. Saburouta chokes on a moan, the grip on his dick tightening involuntarily.

He’s completely at the demon king’s mercy.

“Is that good?” Lucifer asks, though Saburouta’s very sure he actually knows the answer.

“Yes,” he answers in a shaky, wet voice, “very good.”

Lucifer smiles at that- a genuine smile, even if it’s mild. “I like you like this. It becomes you.”

Saburouta wonders if it’s possible to get any more turned on than he currently is. What the fuck. “I could be like this for you,” he says in a tight voice as Lucifer makes another cut, this time diagonal along the bottom of his ribs on the right that makes him _writhe_ , “ahh- I-” he yelps as the knife slips a little deeper, “-I would love to be like this for you- all you have to do is ask-”

He squeezes his eyes shut as he feels his orgasm building hot and tight in his belly.

“Hold on for a moment longer,” Lucifer murmurs, dragging his knuckles over Saburouta’s heaving chest, “I want a little more.”

Saburouta nods stiffly, willing himself back from that precipice. He grips tightly at the base of his dick, breathing heavily. “It’s so good,” he says weakly, “ _fuck._ ”

“I see it,” Lucifer says gently. Saburouta feels the tip of the knife just above his navel, “You’re practically glowing. Hot like coals.”

Saburouta breathes out through his nose. He’s coming down a bit now. Safer. “Do you like this too?” he asks in a small, tight voice, recalling through a haze how this started. Lucifer wanted to see him. Well, now he does. Is it what he expected? What he wanted?

“I like this very much,” Lucifer says as he sinks the knife deep into Saburouta’s guts.

Saburouta grunts in surprise, then moans in pain, then hisses in pleasure. Feels the knife nick something deep inside him. His free hand has a death grip on the sheets, the other one has moved from his dick to his thigh, digging the nails in.

“Fuh-fuck-” he stutters. He hadn’t expected that. It hurts so much. Ahh. He just wants to cum.

“You’re crying,” Lucifer notes. Saburouta looks him in the eyes. They’re so heated, so intent, so intense.

“Hurts-” Saburouta manages through his teeth. Lucifer hasn’t moved the knife since he sunk it in.

“Is it too much?”

“Almost,” he croaks. It’s almost too much. It’s almost too painful. But he puts his hand back on his dick and then it’s almost too good.

He’s not entirely sure what it is. He just feels overwhelmed and _close_.

“Bear with me, okay? You’re doing so well,” Lucifer says as he twists the knife and all Saburouta can do is scream. His tears evaporate almost as soon as they form.

“Still not too much?” Lucifer asks, a slightly dark note in his tone.

Saburouta sobs weakly, the hand on his dick speeding up. His head’s a mess. He doesn’t know if it’s too much or not enough he’s just on _fire_ and he needs to-

He’s fucked up. God, he’s so fucked up. “N-no. It’s so good,” he says in a wet voice. He feels blood running down his sides. Lucifer looming over him. It’s all blurring together, his consciousness shrinking down. “C-can I cum?”

Slowly, cautiously, Lucifer starts pulling the blade out. Saburouta swears he can feel the ridges of the blade.

“Only if you look at me,” Lucifer answers.

That’s easier said than done. Saburouta tries to keep his eyes open and focused, but as he feels his orgasm coming again, they just want to slide shut.

“Come on, Saburouta,” Lucifer says, holding onto his chin, “I want to see you.”

Fuck-

Saburouta cums so hard he blacks out for a second. It’s as if the fire drains out of him all at once. He’s left limp and confused and heavy but- but so incredibly fulfilled.

“I- uh-” he starts, though his mouth feels incredibly dry and his tongue - heavy. “That was. Wow.”

Lucifer stares down at him. It’s hard to call his expression a smirk, but that would probably be the closest approximation. “That looked delightful.” 

“It was rather mind-blowing,” Saburouta croaks. He’s still reeling - all soft and hazy and tired in his post-orgasmic haze.

“Thank you for indulging me,” Lucifer says as he draws himself away, shuffling backwards and to the edge of the bed “I’ll call the cleaning detail to take care of the mess.”

That makes Saburouta pause, “Wait, but don’t you-?”

Lucifer turns to look at him with a raised brow, “Don’t I what?”

“Uh,” Saburouta thinks how to phrase it delicately before realising there’s nothing really delicate left here, “Don’t you also want to orgasm?”

Lucifer seems surprised at the question, “Me? I wasn’t expecting an orgasm out of this, no.”

“Ah...” so he really just. Wanted to see Saburouta… and that’s it? It might take some time to digest that information. “But do you… want one?” (‘What are you saying!’ a voice in his head screams.)

Lucifer opens his mouth as if to speak but closes it again after a moment. He’s staring at Saburouta somewhat uncomprehendingly.

“I wouldn’t mind helping,” Saburouta says with a nervous little laugh. Hmm, no, that didn’t come out right… “It would be my pleasure, in fact.”

Lucifer’s brows furrow, “What did you have in mind? I’m afraid that I don’t have the stamina required for most sexual activities.”

“Well, I could- with my mouth-” Saburouta finds himself getting a little flustered again. He’s offering a blowjob to his boss, for fuck’s sake. “... if you wanted...?”

“That… could work, I suppose,” Lucifer admits, “How would you rather do it?”

“You can lie back, I’ll take care of the rest,” Saburouta replies with a smile. He’s already mostly recovered. Maybe kind of hungry. But this… is an opportunity he wouldn’t want to pass up.

Once Lucifer is settled in comfortably, Saburouta gets up close and personal between his legs. Lucifer is only half-hard, which - a little disappointing - but Saburouta knows what to do well enough.

He takes the dick in one hand and starts working, while also paying the head some attention with his tongue.

“I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to go through it all the way,” Lucifer notes after a moment of watching. Saburouta hums as he releases the head of his dick with a quiet _pop_. “That’s okay. If you want me to stop, let me know,” he says in a semi-serious voice.

“That’s not quite what I meant,” Lucifer says, causing Saburouta to cock an eyebrow, “I’ve often had problems with this particular part of the human anatomy. It doesn’t always… _work_.”

“Ahh,” Saburouta says, “that’s understandable. Let’s try and see, then.” He winks playfully.

And then gets back to it. Honestly, he quite enjoys giving oral, regardless of the partner. It’s one of the first things he really learned well, sexual act wise. His wife loved it when he ate her out. And it was fun sometimes when the long missions got too long and he and the colleagues shared a few drinks, and, well, some things lead to some other and… ah, it doesn’t really matter.

His attention is on Lucifer, whose dick is slowly but surely stiffening under his ministrations.

Saburouta brings his other hand to massage the perineum in time to his licks and slurps. Lucifer comes alive slowly - it’s like fanning a nearly burnt out fire. But his breathing becomes more uneven, and his legs fall apart wider, inviting, and then he’s fully hard and Saburouta spies colour high up on his cheeks.

Briefly, he pauses sucking, “Good?”

“Yes. You’re lovely,” Lucifer answers, voice a bit rawer than it was a while ago.

“You can grab my hair,” Saburouta says, licking his spit-slick lips. Honestly, he’s being a little sloppy, but Lucifer hasn’t complained, so… “I’ll let you set the pace. What do you say?” He’s smiling mischievously.

Lucifer nods, uncurling his hands from the sheets and settling his hands in Saburouta’s hair, a firm grip. Saburouta smiles and goes back down. He can throat the whole thing with minimal difficulty or gagging - definitely a plus.

Lucifer holds him down there for a moment, his grip tightening. Well, that’s fine, who needs air, right? Saburouta tries his best to comply with the wordless demands. He’s had his pleasure. He can give back as good as he got.

He breathes deeply through his nose when the other relents. Moans and runs his tongue along the underside. He feels good with his mouth filled like this. Feels good being _used_.

Saburouta uses his hand to jack what’s not in his mouth, and his other to massage just under Lucifer’s testicles.

The demon king is moaning now - it’s a very dignified sound despite everything. It’s amazing how much he’s keeping his cool. Saburouta is genuinely doing his best here.

This goes on for a while - Lucifer drawing his pleasure out slowly and in measured portions - fully in control of the situation, of what Saburouta does, how deep, how fast, how long the strokes-

And Saburouta’s just happy to come along for the ride, honestly. His jaw is starting to ache, but oh is it worth it to see Lucifer like this.

“Ah, I think I’m close,” Lucifer says, pulling Saburouta off, “May I finish in your mouth?” Awh, what a gentleman.

“Of course,” Saburouta says in a hoarse voice, smiling toothily. At this point he’s starting to get hard again himself, but he’s planning to deal with that later.

“Thank you,” Lucifer says, and guides the demon eater down again. The pace is faster, less rhythmic than before, and Saburouta takes it upon himself to speed it up further, all but gagging himself on the cock.

When he finishes, Lucifer has his dick as far down Saburouta’s throat as it goes, grip vice tight in the man’s hair.

Saburouta doesn’t mind, but he’s a bit disappointed that he doesn’t get to really taste it. He coughs delicately into his hand when the other lets go.

“Thank you, Saburouta,” Lucifer says, noticeably spent, “this has been a very pleasant interaction on my part.”

“Oh, I return the sentiment fully,” Saburouta croaks, “I would gladly do something similar again sometime.”

Lucifer smiles as he sits up again, somewhat weakly, “I think I would as well. Now, would you help me up to the bathroom? We should clean up somewhat.”

Saburouta is suddenly hit by the recollection that he is literally covered in drying blood. 

“Of course, Commander,” he says with a pleasant and polite smile.


End file.
